The real reason why snowshoes are the way to go in the snow

The temperature has been balmy of late, at least here in New England, but I’ve been thinking snow. Perhaps that was inevitable; I just spent more than a week stacking two cords of newly delivered firewood. Which got me to thinking about snowshoes.

My wife Liz and I have had snowshoes for many years, but Liz does not share my enthusiasm for these winter-walking contraptions. Given a choice between snowshoeing or cross-country skiing, she'll always choose the latter.

Not me. I’d like to think I love snowshoeing because it's a throwback to my French-Canadian roots, a cultural link to my ancestors. My family tree includes its share of early woodsmen (known in Québec as coureurs de bois) and other Québécois for whom snowshoes were essential gear, not luxuries or playthings.

Then there’s the fact that the flexibility of snowshoes allows me to blaze trails through virgin landscapes after a fresh snowfall. Snowshoes will take you wherever you want to go, even if (ideally) no one has been there before you. Plus, you get a pretty good workout on snowshoes, thanks to the wide stance and the extra effort of walking with them. This is especially true when you’re breaking trail, which consumes more energy than does following in someone's else's footsteps.

But let’s be honest. The real reason I prefer snowshoeing to skiing has little to do with preserving old ways or playing explorer. The simple fact is that unless you’re drunk, completely inept or walking on icy terrain, it’s virtually impossible to fall while snowshoeing, especially if you’re wearing large, traditional, wooden snowshoes like mine.

Forget skis, skates, sleds and toboggans. Any cold-weather sport that guarantees I’ll stay upright from start to finish is No. 1 my book. Because in the winter months, vertical isn't just a goal, it's an obsession.